


Where Are You?

by emo_trashcan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcholism, Angst, BBC is a destroyer of souls, Cutting, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merlin Waiting for Arthur Pendragon's Return (Merlin), Merthur - Freeform, Modern AU, Post-Canon, Slash, Suicide Attempt, Whump, im so sorry, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29745609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emo_trashcan/pseuds/emo_trashcan
Summary: It’s been over a thousand years and Merlin’s about to give up waiting for Arthur.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Where Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to BBC’s Merlin (2008)
> 
> No profit is made from this.
> 
> PLEASE DO NO READ IF EASILY TRIGGERED
> 
> Edits for typos

Time is cruel. It takes everything away eventually. Nothing good can ever last because of it. Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, and yet he cannot prevent time from stealing his joy over and over again. 

He’s been alive for well over one thousand years, but still hasn’t been able to find a way to stop his life from continuing while the ones around him end. It’s torture. He might as well be in Hell. But if he were then he’d be dead, and clearly, he isn’t. 

When Merlin agreed to wait for Arthur to rise again, he had no idea what he was signing up for. Now he’s paying the price. 

The aforementioned man sits at the local bar, a place he’s been so many times that he’s become recognizable to the employees despite never speaking to them. In fact, he doesn’t speak to anyone, just sits at the counter and downs his liquor like it’s all he knows how to do. Maybe it is. 

“Oi, hate to break it to ya, but we’re closing up now.” 

Merlin nods absently at the bar tender and puts down his glass, heading for the doors. The chilly night air nips at his cheeks, but he doesn’t mind. Stumbling through the darkened streets, Merlin allows his drunken mind to wander off to a land of myth and a time of magic. A land where he knew who he was and what he was meant to do. A land where he got to see the face of his beloved prince every day. 

Suddenly he’s on the ground, bright lights blinding him. A vehicle’s engine is rumbling noisily and someone’s yelling. 

“Bloody hell, are you alright? Watch where you’re going, mate! Do you need me to call someone for you?” 

Merlin scrambles to his feet and ignores the ache in his ribs. The sound of a car door slamming shut is all he needs to send him sprinting away, tripping over his shoes as he goes. Dogs bark threateningly as he passes by, and streetlights flicker ominously. Somehow, he ends up making his way to the forest, whether by using magic or simply walking, he doesn’t know. Everything is a bit blurry. Merlin traipses down the familiar path to the shore of Lake Avalon, leaves rustling all around him. 

The warlock staggers toward the glassy water and falls to his knees on the rocky beach, skin splitting at the harsh contact. For a while, he just sits there, breathing raggedly and staring out at the black lake. 

“Where are you, Arthur?” he whispers in a cracked voice. He feels so isolated, like his cries don’t reach the person he needs. A wave of emotion takes a hold of his brain and he screams. 

“WHERE ARE YOU?” 

The water gives no response, leaving the broken man to bawl his heart out. Merlin feels as though the world is empty, that he’s alone and forgotten. Why can’t he stop living? Why does his time have to continue? All he wants to do is feel whole again, but that cannot occur while Arthur is gone. He is his other half, the second side of the coin. Merlin is incomplete without him. 

An all-consuming hollowness engulfs the sorcerer, leaving him in the depths of despair. The feeling is torturous. 

He reaches into his jean’s pocket and pulls out the little switchblade he always carries. Shoving his sleeve up, Merlin forcefully drags the blade across his wrist, tears falling to mix with the blood. It’s wrong, but it’s the only way he can see the pain he feels inside. After a few moments, his vision swims as he realizes how many cuts he’s made, but he doesn’t care. There’s no point anymore. It’s not like he can kill himself anyways; he’s immortal. But there’s no harm in trying. 

Merlin heaves himself up and stumbles to the water, chest feeling constricted from his sobs. The knife falls from his trembling hand and plops in the clear liquid. 

“Please, let me die this time.” 

He pushes forward and forces his legs to keep moving, despite their want to collapse. The water retaliates stubbornly, but Merlin insists on wading out as far as he can before ducking underneath the surface without a second thought. Liquid fills his burning lungs, and his open wounds sting, but he welcomes it. 

‘Please let me die.’

Everything is so dark and frigid. Maybe he’s dead. No, if he was dead, Arthur would be here. Arthur. Where is he? Why did he leave Merlin to suffer for so long all by himself? Does he not care? Yes, maybe that’s it. Arthur just doesn’t care about Merlin. Why should he? 

The darkness closes in on Merlin’s mind and he goes numb, forgetting his surroundings. He just wants to float away and escape the world he’s trapped in. 

Suddenly, there are arms wrapped around him, pushing him upwards. He wants to scream at them to let him drown, but something feels familiar about these arms. Something about the way they pull him close and tighten their grip when he struggles. 

It can’t possibly be...

Merlin can feel himself break the surface of the lake, but his eyes refuse to open. All he is aware of is the warm body embracing him firmly as they move back toward the shoreline. The warlock allows himself to be carried, limbs limp and head spinning. Harsh coughs wrack his frame as his lungs try to expel the inhaled water, and vaguely he can sense his own blood dripping from his wrist. 

Small rocks crunch under heavy feet as Merlin is placed gently on dry ground. A hand brushes against his cheek and caresses his jaw. Then he can hear his name being said. The voice is the same one he’s heard in his dreams so many times, and he thinks he may have gone insane. 

Merlin finally lifts his eyelids and sees the man he’s wanted to behold for so long. 

Arthur. 

He’s crying. Why is he crying? 

It can’t possibly be him. Not after all this torment and longing. Does this mean he succeeded? Did he finally make it to Avalon?

“Am I dead?” 

Merlin’s voice is raspy. Tentatively, he gathers enough strength to lift a shaky hand up to the blond’s face. He needs to make sure this is real. 

Arthur takes Merlin’s hand and presses it to his lips before leaning down and resting their foreheads together. 

“No, you’re alive, and I’m here with you now,” he breathes out. “You needn’t suffer any longer.” 

Shock settles in on Merlin’s mind as he realizes that, without a doubt, this is his king. A gasping sob rips through his chest as the blond pulls him securely into a hug. Even though they’re soaking wet, the prince’s familiar smell encompasses all of Merlin’s senses and he suddenly feels like he’s found his home again. All he can do is whisper Arthur’s name over and over again like a prayer, and they weep on each other’s shoulders for God knows how long, occasionally murmuring words of love and loss. 

When they pull apart, Arthur wipes away Merlin’s tears and stares into his brilliant blue eyes which are shining in the moonlight. 

“I’ve seen every day of your life from Avalon, watched your prosper and pain. I kept begging the Sidhe to let me return to you, but the time wasn’t right. If I’d known about your affections for me back in Camelot, I would’ve told you how I felt before it was too late. I’m so sorry you had to live alone for all these years. I’m sorry you felt the need to do this to yourself-“ 

Arthur glances sadly at the warlock’s bloody wrist, then looks back into his eyes. 

“But I’m here now and I’ll never leave you again, I promise.” 

The dark haired man can hear his own breath hitch. Arthur returns his affections? It’s as if his greatest dreams have become a reality, and Merlin honestly doesn’t know what to say. He’s felt hopeless for so long, and now… it’s just too good to be true.

In the end, it seems that nothing more needs to be said because the two men tilt forward at the same time and lock their lips together in unison. All of the pent up feelings that they’d held back for literal centuries come flooding out all at once. Their hands roam each other’s bodies, trying to memorize every inch as if they are about to be torn apart again. It’s like nothing else exists in that moment, only Merlin and Arthur. All they can feel is the other person, the sensation of skin against skin and hearts thumping in their chests.

When they finally separate, Merlin runs a hand through Arthur’s damp hair and takes a deep breath. 

“Every day, I have mourned you, and every day, I have wished that I’d had the courage to tell you how much I loved you. How much I still love you. Even though you were a pompous, arrogant prat when we first met-“ Merlin chuckles fondly through his tears. “I began to see the great man you were becoming. I’m sorry for all of the secrets I kept from you. They’ve been eating me alive for so long, and I wish I could’ve explained everything sooner.”

Arthur smiles sadly at the man in his arms. 

“I don’t blame you for hiding those things from me. I know now how much pressure you were under, and all by yourself too. I just wish I could’ve helped you carry that burden,” he replies quietly. 

Merlin places another kiss on his lips before pulling back with a puzzled expression. 

“But why have you returned now? Why not during one of the Great Wars or something?” he asks. 

“Because the prophecy stated that I would rise again when Albion’s need was greatest. The world has changed immensely while I’ve been away, and now all that remains of Albion is you. You are Albion, Merlin. I have come back because you are at the time of your greatest need,” Arthur explains. 

A look of realization dawns on Merlin’s face, heart swelling with the knowledge that Arthur has literally come back from the dead for him. Only him. After all this time, he’s never expected this. Never expected to be loved or given credit, but here is Arthur, a living miracle, who’s decided to show Merlin the happiness he deserves and give him a purpose in life. 

He surges forward once more to connect their mouths in a tearful kiss, pouring all of his love and gratitude into it. It takes a few minutes for them to find the willpower to let go of each other, but Arthur is growing more concerned about Merlin’s physical well-being. 

“As much as I wish we could continue, you’re still injured and in need of help. Do you think you can stand?” the noble inquires softly. 

Merlin gives a small nod and allows Arthur to help him to his feet shakily. Arms wrapped around each other supportingly, the two men make their way through the trees and back to the secluded cottage that the warlock had built as a home many years ago, protecting it with magic. 

Arthur guides Merlin through the front door and sits him down on the sofa, quickly grabbing the first aid kit from a cupboard and wetting a washcloth in the sink. 

“I-I’m fine, you really don’t need to worry about it,” Merlin protests weakly as he sees the fuss his companion is making, but is promptly cut off. 

“Oh, hush, Merlin. I’m going to take care of you the way you took care of me. This is the least I can do.” 

Arthur sits down next to the other man and begins carefully wiping away the dried blood on his wrist, the deep crimson color contrasting drastically with the unhealthy paleness of his skin. Merlin takes deep breaths and does his best to keep still as Arthur wraps some bandages gingerly around his wounds. 

The tenderness of the king’s hands leaves Merlin in a daze, and he’s somewhat flustered from the care with which he’s being treated. Arthur’s touch is comforting, and when he’s finished with the bandages, he places a featherlight kiss on top of them. 

“Thank you,” Merlin murmurs quietly, a small blush creeping into his cheeks. 

Arthur grazes his knuckles delicately against the man’s jawline and smiles. 

“I should be the one thanking you. You went through so much for me, sacrificed everything, and didn’t get anything in return. I know I’ll never truly be able to repay my debt to you, but that certainly won’t stop me from trying,” the blond says, gazing into his lover’s eyes. The exhaustion in his face worries Arthur. 

“You should get some rest now, I know you haven’t been sleeping these past few days. Come, I’ll help you to your bed.”

Merlin doesn’t have the strength to argue at the moment, so he takes the king’s offered hand and they make their way to his room down the hall. His body aches tiredly once he sees his warm, inviting bed, and he practically collapses onto it while kicking off his shoes. Arthur helps him slide beneath the covers and turns as if to leave, but Merlin grabs his arm before he can, muscles quivering slightly. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

The noble’s face flushes briefly before replying. 

“I was going to sleep in the other room…” He gestures vaguely at the door and looks a little sheepish. The warlock sighs. 

“Take off your armor and get in here, you clotpole.” 

Arthur doesn’t need to be told twice. He does as he is commanded and slips under the blankets with a sleepy Merlin, arms immediately wrapping themselves around the lithe figure next to him. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, as if they’d been made specifically for each other. 

Merlin hums in content at the warmth seeping into his worn out bones. He is finally in the arms of the man he loves, and he’s never letting go again. 

Arthur can’t stop himself from pressing gentle kisses to his lover’s neck, soothing Merlin into a peaceful doze. This is the way things should’ve been back in Camelot. This is what they were always destined to be. And now they are finally fulfilling that destiny, holding one another close and basking in the other’s presence as they shield their pure love away from the prying eyes of the world. 

Just Merlin and Arthur. Together at last.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry this was kinda shitty, but I ran out of motivation half way through. stay safe everyone!


End file.
